Nothing Sweet
by VRyder
Summary: Calling this anything more than PWP would be misleading. There is no plot. No fluff. Just rough sex. Stiles finds out that Derek and Jackson are screwing and decides to watch. Derek/Jackson, eventual Derek/Jackson/Stiles. Stiles's POV.
1. Chapter 1

Stiles scrambled out of sight.

There was no possible way he was seeing what he was seeing.

He peered out around the corner and his mouth fell slack.

Derek was pounding Jackson.

There was no other way to describe it.

The werewolf's actions were so fast and so strong, Stiles could only imagine his spine breaking had he been in Jackson's position. But Jackson loved it. He was crying out in pure ecstasy, his mouth open so wide Stiles could fit his fist in there. His teeth showed as he grinned, his entire body moving with each thrust.

He looked to Derek, his eyes filled with lust, and pulled him down. The alpha complied, taking his sharp teeth and hot tongue over Jackson's sweat covered torso, before finding Jackson's perfect mouth. They kissed. It was savage and raw, their lips at some cross between a smirk and a snarl, while their tongues battled for dominance. There was nothing tender or sweet about what they were doing.

Of course, nothing either of them did was ever sweet.

They were both growling, moaning, groaning, making every sound imaginable, while saying absolutely nothing. Derek's hands were tangled in Jackson's short hair, stopping Jackson's body from fall off the other side of the table. Jackson's nails dug into Derek's forearms and Stiles could see the red lines where Jackson's nails moved, unable to keep a solid grip through Derek's ruthless thrusts.

Stiles turned away, needing a moment to catch his breath. He couldn't even remember why he came to the library. It certainly wasn't to see the two of them going at it on one of the study tables.

He peaked out again. Derek was still half clothed. Jackson had managed to get off the leather Derek always wore and whatever shirt he had on underneath, but Derek was far more successful. Jackson was stark naked. Then again, that wasn't exactly something new. Even Stiles had seen his junk twice in the past season semester.

Derek straightened up, letting Stiles see the thin coat of sweat that had broken out on both their chests. Their hard torsos nearly glistened in the moonlight, each ripple of muscle amplified with dark shadows.

It was amazing how cooperative the lighting in Beacon Hills was.

Jackson's nails dragged down Derek's chest, eliciting a growl that sent shivers down Stiles' spine. He felt like the two of them would turn and go absolutely rabid any moment. Scott complained that it was hard enough to keep control when Alison had her tongue down his throat and these two were having earth-shattering, mind-blowing, animalistic sex.

Jackson's moans grew louder, his back arching as pleasure consumed every cell of his body. Stiles wondered if Scott could hear them across town. Stiles was sure he could hear them from the parking lot at this point and he was no werewolf.

Derek's hand dropped to Jackson's cock, stroking it steadily and slowly. His hand moved at an entirely different rhythm to his hips and it drove Jackson insane. When Derek's mouth returned to Jackson's body, he nearly lost it. Somehow, Jackson's mouth fell wider than it already was, his throat releasing nothing but rough choked noises. He couldn't even manage screaming at this point.

Jackson's hands searched for something to grab onto. One found Derek's hair, winding deep into the black locks. Derek returned the favour, twisting his fingers into the once perfectly-gelled mane, and crushed their lips together again.

Derek's hips never stopped. His shoulders looked almost perfectly still, his head moving to keep up with Jackson's lolling skull so that their lips never parted. His hand continued at the same agonizingly slow speed, making Jackson's body rock in search of more friction, but Derek adjusted, refusing to let him get off.

_Yet_.

Derek released Jackson's mouth, his teeth scraping down Jackson's throat, before sinking into the dip between his neck and shoulder.

A raw, positively primal cry ripped from deep inside Jackson.

He was coming.

Hard.

A smirk crept on Derek's lips, before he gave into everything he was holding back. After a few more thrusts, his breathing grew uneven and he buried himself so deep in Jackson, it was a marvel that they didn't become one person.

Stiles fell to his knees at the broken sound of Derek's moan as he came. It was low and muffled, but just as raw and primal as Jackson's. Derek propped himself up with an elbow above Jackson's head and pulled himself free. Jackson fell slack, his legs hanging off the table, while Derek stood. He cleaned himself off with Jackson's ripped shirt, knowing it wouldn't be odd for Jackson to be walking around shirtless.

It had become a highly common occurrence.

They were both grinning, basking in the utter satisfaction of the release that made Stiles wonder how long they had been doing this.

Jackson sat up, accepting the remnants shirt of his shirt to wipe all the cum off his body, while Derek tucked his cock back into his jeans. Jackson looked like he had been fucked within an inch of his life. His body was littered in bite marks and scratches. So was Derek's.

Maybe this was why Derek stopped running around without a shirt.

"Same time tomorrow?" Jackson asked.

Derek merely smirked, taking an extra moment to enjoy his handiwork. Jackson's legs were still spread wide. Stiles wasn't sure if he could even move them, when Derek hauled Jackson to his feet with a hand winded into his hair. Jackson's chest heaved, their eyes remaining locked together. Derek's finger traced his harshest bite mark. The one he left when he came.

"Keep this," Derek ordered, his voice low and rough and his eyes locked on his mark. "And be at my place tomorrow."

"Last time we did it at your place, we broke the east wing and I got splinters in my ass."

"At least we don't have to stop because my parents come home."

Jackson rolled his eyes.

"So here? The pool? The locker room?" His fingers played over Derek's covered dick and he bit his lip, leaning against the older wolf. "You do seem to like me and lockers."

Derek hooked a finger on Jackson's chin and ran his thumb over Jackson's swollen lips.

"The locker room," Derek decided.

"I'll bring handcuffs."

"You do remember what happened the last time you tried that on me, right?"

"Yeah." Jackson was smiling like the cocky bastard he was. "I'll just have to get better ones."

Derek's hands closed around Jackson's throat, making the younger one bare his teeth. Jackson's hips collided with the table again.

"Anyone tell you that you have serious control issues?" Jackson teased, his hands gripping the edges of the desk.

"This coming from the perfectionist?"

"_I_ found an outlet."


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles poked his head out from beneath the sheets. He stretched, yawning, before a dopy grin took over his face. He had had a _very_ good dream.

He opened his eyes to see a pair of deadly red ones only a few inches from his.

"Oh my god!"

Stiles' body flailed, before he could help it. His arms flapping out to get him out of bed, but Derek shoved him down into the mattress with a single rough hand to his collar bone.

"Okay. Not going anywhere."

He stared at Derek, his hands lifting as if Derek had a gun to his head. Practically every interaction with Derek felt like it could be Stiles' last. The man was frightening and the only person, or rather thing, that was scarier was the kanima and Derek killed it.

Or half killed it...

With Derek's uncle alive again and Jackson still roaming the halls, Stiles would seriously have to reconsider his definition of killing.

Derek lifted his hand and Stiles was suddenly yanked down the bed until his knees hooked over the edge.

"Gah! What the-"

Jackson was here too.

"Oh, shit."

Stiles scrambled to sit up, but Jackson tossed him backwards, his eyes flaring an unnaturally bright blue.

"What'd you see last night?" Derek asked, his voice calm, yet completely and utterly threatening.

They knew.

He was screwed.

And not in the good way.

"A Disney sing-a-long called Happy Haunting. I think you'd really like it," Stiles managed to say without too much of a pause.

Derek scoffed, a dark smile creeping over his lips. He took a step back, his fingers turning into claws as he reached out for the wall. He dragged his claws through the plaster with utter ease. A choked out cry of fear left Stiles throat.

"Holy god."

"Now. Let's try that again."

"I'm not going to tell anyone."

Jackson ripped away the plush bed covers, catching Stiles' full attention. Stiles saw the bite mark peaking out from the expensive knit and wet his lips. It hadn't healed. Or, rather, Jackson hadn't _let_ it heal.

Derek turned Stiles' head back to him, while Jackson inched Stiles pyjama bottoms down along with his boxers. Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but he didn't have a chance. Jackson swallowed him whole and sparks flew through Stiles' body. He managed to look down, seeing Jackson's head bob at a _highly_ impressive speed.

"Oh my god. Oh my god!"

Stiles' hand flew through his hair, managing to be in a state of disbelief greater than last night. Derek sat down above Stiles' head, folding his arms over his chest as he watched Jackson's actions. Stiles's hands moving for Jackson's hair, but Derek stopped him. He caught Stiles' arms, pinning them against his thighs.

Stiles squirmed, trying to find any control, but Jackson held his legs, not even allowing Stiles' hips to buck as they desperately wanted to. Jackson's head continued bobbing, his tongue moving on the underside of his cock as he took Stiles into his throat.

Stiles moaned. There was nothing else he could do.

"This is your first time."

It wasn't a question. Somehow, Derek knew. One of his hands dropped to the strip of flesh Jackson had exposed. Stiles shuddered at the feather-light touch, Derek's human nails dancing across the milky skin.

"He's quite good. It seems having a gay best friend has paid off."

Jackson threw a quick glare up at Derek, the natural blue returning to his eyes, before raising a middle finger.

Derek chuckled in response.

"We'll have to visit him one of these days."

A loud pop sounded from Stiles' groin as Jackson released him from the warmth of his mouth. Stiles whimpered, his cock twitching in the cool air.

"He would do a better job at keeping a secret than Stilinski." Jackson wrapped a hand around Stiles, pumping him slowly. "But Danny's not a virgin."

Derek smiled, agreeing with Jackson without saying a word. This was so casual it made Stiles' head want to explode. Jackson had Stiles' dick in his hand and he was having a merry ol' conversation with Derek like they were talking about the weather.

"Finish him off," Derek ordered.

"You don't want a go?"

"Next time."

A whine freed itself from Stiles throat. Stiles didn't know what to do. He had no control over the situation. He wasn't sure that even mattered anymore.

Jackson swallowed him whole again and Stiles back arched, wanton and desperate. His fingers sought out anything to hold onto, but he couldn't even scratch the dark wood of his headboard.

He was at their mercy.

And somehow, he didn't care.

Jackson wasn't teasing him. He was pulling out every stop and Stiles was moaning with every movement of Jackson's expert tongue. Senseless pleas and incoherent begging noises followed. If Jackson stopped now, it would be the cruellest torture imaginable.

But he wasn't stopping.

Stiles's body went rigid and he screamed, spasming slightly as he came. Jackson swallowed everything with ease, before he and Derek released Stiles in perfect synchronization, leaving him in bask in his afterglow.

Stiles lay still, consumed in absolute utter disbelief of what just happened.

He had to be going insane.

That was the only option.

His alarm clock blared to life, snapping him into reality. Stiles sat up his bed sheets sticking to his stomach.

A dream. Nightmare? Stiles wasn't sure what made more sense. He reached for his pillow, burying his face in it and screaming out for a few long seconds, before climbing out of bed and getting ready for school.

**Author note: How do you guys feel about bondage? Yay or nay? It'd be fairly light. Not too hardcore. Just fun. :P**


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles chewed on the lid of his highlighter, trying to catch up on his economics reading before class started.

Jackson came in as the bell rung and sat down in front of Stiles. He didn't look any different. Stiles expected to see him unable to sit, but Jackson was fine. Stiles leant forward, looking for the bite mark, when Jackson spun around, startling Stiles right off his chair.

"What do you want, Stilinski?" Jackson demanded.

"Nothing." He spent far too long saying a single word. He was too busy inspecting the high collar of Jackson's shirt.

Jackson rolled his eyes and faced forward again. Stiles climbed back into his seat, drumming his highlighter on his textbook. He had an overwhelming urge to ask Jackson about last night, but he highly doubted that it would lead down the same path as his nightmare. Dream? No. He was sticking with nightmare. It made much more sense considering he still hated both of them.

"I can feel you staring," Jackson hissed.

Stiles laughed nervously. His usual defense mechanism of babbling wasn't working. He combed his hand through his hair, forcing himself to look outside, but that was no better. Derek was crossing the parking lot with Isaac and neither of them looked happy.

"Hey, Jackson." Stiles whole hand flicked him in the arm, before he knew it. "What are they talking about?"

Jackson glanced out the window, but ignored Stiles request.

"Come on!"

"Do I look like McCall?"

"No. You are definitely more flexible."

Jackson turned around, his eye brows wrinkled in confusion. Stiles dropped his head, his hand falling on top of it to shield himself from Jackson. He waited a moment, before daring to look up to see Jackson pick up his phone. Stiles leant to the side, watching him write a text.

_I don't know what's going on.  
__I don't care what's going on.  
__But remember. I don't share._

Jackson hit send and Stiles instantly looked out the window. Derek and Isaac were fighting, but Derek still took the time to answer his phone. Stiles watched the alpha roll his eyes, grinning slightly. Derek tucked his phone away and Jackson's lit up with a response.

Stiles jaw dropped. He had just about chalked up what he saw yesterday to a hallucination. It wasn't the first time he saw something that wasn't there, but this was real. This was actually somehow real. But it couldn't be real. But it was. But it couldn't be. But it was.

Stiles shook his head, needing to physically stop his mind from continuing to spin in circles like a dog chasing it's - wrong metaphor. He would need to wipe all references to dogs and tails.

Desperate to know, Stiles yanked down Jackson's collar. Sure enough, there was a bite mark. His hand shot away as the newest werewolf in town turned, utter rage filling his eyes. Stiles forced a crooked smile.

"Take a different seat," Jackson ordered, keeping his anger locked in place.

"Absolutely." Stiles bolted from his seat, moving to the very back.

**That Night:**

Stiles knew this was a bad idea. There was no way it was a good idea, but there was an equipment delivery and it was too perfect an opportunity. Stiles had made himself a fort with the boxes and been camped out since he finished dinner. He didn't know what time they started yesterday and he doubted he could sneak up on the two of them again.

As for why... Stiles wasn't exactly sure why he wanted to. He wasn't gay. Not that he wasn't open to it, but he had been in complete and utter love with Lydia Martin for as long as he could remember and she was certainly not a boy.

He would have never pegged Derek or Jackson for being gay either. Except that they both dressed impeccably and Jackson knew designers. But that was just a rich person thing these days. It wouldn't have surprised Stiles if Jackson's first word wasn't 'dada' but 'Prada'. As for Derek, he did seem to have a fetish with manhandling. Stiles had first hand experience. His eyes went wide at the thought.

What if that was Derek's test?

Had Stiles passed?

Was passing a good thing?

Stiles covered his head, beating it against the floor. This was the most time he had spent fixated on a single idea since Scott became a werewolf. He was obsessing.

"Walk away," Stiles told himself. "Decide it's not real and walk away."

Stiles was about to get up, when he heard the locker room door open. He inched forward to see between the boxes to see Jackson enter with a duffel bag.

Jackson dropped the bag by his locker and began walking around. He checked the showers and the office. He was looking to see if anyone was there. Stiles clapped a hand over his mouth and his chest, trying to cover up the noises he couldn't hear, but every single werewolf heard.

Jackson moved towards him and Stiles could honestly see his life flashing before his eyes. He kicked the box closest to Stiles's head and it jerked towards him. Stiles managed to stay still and silent, but his heart was racing faster than it ever had before.

The door opened again and Jackson turned away. Stiles let out the breath he was holding, keeping it as silent as possible, but Jackson didn't react to him. He saw Derek enter, his bare hands peaking out of the sleeves of his leather jacket as he strolled towards Jackson.

Stiles waited for them to engage in witty banter. Or at least say 'hi', but Derek simply fisted his hand in Jackson's shirt and hauled Jackson against him, taking claim to his mouth. Stiles jaw dropped, watching them both fight for control, but everyone present knew who was going to win. Derek was the alpha and taller.

Jackson tore through Derek's shirt, throwing it to the side and receiving a low and feral chuckle from Derek. Apparently, Jackson disagreed with the amount of shirts Derek had been wearing recently. Of course, with pack of horny teenagers, it was probably for the best.

Derek shoved Jackson up against the lockers, eliciting a small gasp from the younger wolf, but never breaking the kiss. Derek's free hand slipped between them, grabbing Jackson through his jeans. He rubbed Jackson roughly, making his legs spread and gaining a loud moan.

Jackson freed his mouth from Derek's, dragging his teeth down Derek's throat. Derek smirked in approval, yanking Jackson's shirt over his head and dropping it behind him. Jackson sunk lower, his knees making contact with the floor. Derek pulled his belt free, putting it on top of the lockers, and Jackson quickly unzipped his fly.

Derek watched Jackson take him out, his eyes darkening with lust. Jackson merely smirked as Derek leant over him, bracing himself with a single flat hand to the lockers. Without hesitation, Jackson swallowed Derek whole.

Stiles's jaw dropped, legitimately hitting the ground. Jackson had no gag reflex. Either Danny was a really good friend or Derek was a really good teacher. Jackson's head bobbed at a fast pace, sucking hard. Derek's head fell forward, his eyes shutting, and his free hand slid into Jackson's hair, pulling hard. He didn't have any intention of stopping. It was about control.

Derek's hand slid on the locker and he fell to this forearm. The corners of Jackson's mouth lifted, continuing his work with a smug grin. Jackson's cheeks hollowed, displaying just how hard he was sucking. If Stiles's dream was remotely accurate, he would have came ages ago. Of course, Derek didn't have the sexual habits of a teenage boy.

Derek's hips jerked forward, slamming Jackson's head back against the locker and forcing his knees from the floor. He rested his weight on his heels, completely prepared to take anything Derek had to offer. His hands gripped Derek's hips, his head still moving like it hadn't just been smashed against the lockers.

Derek's breathing became staggered, his fingers tightening in Jackson's hair as he muttered a command to slow down. But Jackson didn't listen. He somehow managed to pick up his pace, his tongue darting out on the underside of Derek's cock.

Jackson really was good at this.

Derek growled, forcing Jackson to his feet by his hair. Jackson's jaw tensed, his lips still parted and swollen. He wasn't happy about not getting his way, but Derek was calling the shots. Derek pushed Jackson back against the lockers with a hand to his throat. He tilted Jackson's head up roughly with a single thumb.

Derek reached for the belt and Jackson's breath hitched when he saw it. Stiles nearly passed out at the sight of it himself. His head swum, sweat pooling on his forehead. He wiped it away, not willing to let anything cloud his vision.

"You think that'll hold me?" Jackson managed to ask, his entire body desperate to continue.

"Could always use the manacles you brought..." Derek offered, his thumb brushing over his bite mark from last night.

Jackson's breathing turned ragged at the threat. His eyes completely focused on Derek's mouth. If Derek wasn't holding Jackson in place by his neck, Stiles was certain Jackson would have jumped him.

Derek spun Jackson around roughly, twisting Jackson's wrists to beneath his shoulder blades and binding them together with the belt. The muscles on Jackson's arms were forced to flex, displaying every ounce of work he had put into his body. Jackson looked over his shoulder, but Derek turned his head forward, putting his forehead against the lockers. He freed Jackson from his pants and boxers and kicked his legs apart.

"Stay," he ordered, his mouth pressed to Jackson's ear.

Jackson breathed out a laugh as Derek left him. He squirmed, keeping his dick from touching the lockers. They had to be cold, unlike Jackson. Stiles could practically see the heat flooding through Jackson's body. He wasn't sweating yet, but he was hard. He tested the strength of the belt, but didn't break it. Maybe, he couldn't break it. Stiles wasn't sure. Derek went to Jackson's bag, digging through it.

Stiles could hear the chain links clink against one another, sending a shiver up his spine and Jackson's.

"Would you hurry up?" Jackson snapped, remaining in place.

Derek glanced back at Jackson's naked form and a smile snuck onto his face. His hand explored the bag a moment longer, the reminder of the chains echoing softly throughout the locker room, before withdrawing with bottle of lube.

He opened the tube with his thumb, the click making Jackson fully erect. He knew what was coming, knew _he_ was going to be coming. Stiles wet his lips, watching Derek coat his cock. There was something about a bare-chested man in a leather jacket that was utterly, undeniably hot. Jackson sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, his fingers curling in anticipation. Derek wiped his hand off on the tattered shirt, taking his time, before returning to Jackson.

Derek's hand traced over Jackson's shoulder, sliding towards his neck. He turned Jackson's head, making it crane back. Hips lips parted, his eyes dark with lust. Derek claimed Jackson's mouth again, his one hand gripping Jackson's jaw. He put his dick at Jackson's hole, but waited. Jackson's nails clawed at Derek's chest, unable to reach anywhere else, but he couldn't do anything.

Jackson whimpered, wanton and at Derek's mercy. He tried to move things along, but Derek kept him off balance. Jackson was on the balls of his feet, his chest and shoulders flush against the lockers, and Derek's grip stopped him from doing anything but kiss.

Stiles caught sight of their tongues, knowing there was a battle going on within their mouths. Jackson caught Derek's bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. Derek growled, his hips slamming forward as he filled Jackson's ass with his cock and forcing Jackson's entire body against the lockers. Jackson's mouth went wide at the blissful invasion, a deep groan rippling from his throat. Derek's tongue took full advantage, running free in Jackson's mouth, as he began fucking the teenager.

It took Jackson a while, before his brain seemed to remotely function again. The fact that either of them could think at all was impressive. He wasn't as loud as last night, but Derek wasn't releasing his mouth. He was swallowing every noise Jackson made as his hips continued to crash into Jackson's ass.

Another advantage to being a werewolf. No need for rubbers. They weren't at risk of any sexually transmitted diseases. Doctors should really look into werewolf DNA for cures.

Jackson suddenly lost control, his body jerking as he came, but Derek kept his hold on him. Jackson let out a plead for more and Derek smirked, relishing that Jackson couldn't get enough. He continued going, his hips never slowing.

It didn't take long to return Jackson to the edge. His breathing staggered and every noise breaking as it left his throat. Derek wasn't far behind. His fingers were dug into Jackson's flesh and would have certainly left bruises if Jackson wasn't what he was. They were both holding onto the sexual high, neither of them willing to let the fun end nor slow down to prolong it.

Derek surrendered first, his face twisting at the release, but he kept going until Jackson joined him. It only took a couple extra thrusts. Stiles was pretty sure Jackson was only holding on for Derek's satisfaction. They remained motionless for a couple minutes, both their hard bodies heaving with every breath.

Derek stepped back undoing the buckle around Jackson's wrists. Jackson's legs gave out, but Derek caught his arm before Jackson hit the floor, letting him hang like a rag doll for a moment, before lowering him gently onto the tile. Jackson hissed at the cold, but quickly appreciated the chill on his overheated body. He lay back, soaking in the cool temperature. Jackson bent his knees, arching his back a final time, before lying flat. He chuckled, massaging his wrists as Derek dropped onto the bench.

"Round two?" Jackson asked.

Derek laughed, panting slightly.

"C'mon, old man."

"I said no old man jokes, pup," Derek teased, kicking Jackson's hip.

"I'm not your pup," Jackson reacted, swatting Derek's leg. "Now, seriously. Round two?"

"A shower would do us both some good..."


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles had done this too many times. Then again, once was too many. Ergo, Stiles had done this _far_ too many times.

They were at Jackson's house this time. His parents were gone for the weekend, celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary. They looked much too young for that, but everyone in Beacon Hills over thirty looked great for their age. Must have been something in the water.

Stiles had snuck in while Jackson was out for dinner with Danny. He went through a second floor window and spent the better part of an hour trying to decide where the fun would take place. They had kink for the unexpected. A couple nights ago, they did it in Scott's bedroom.

How Scott justified his room smelling like horny werewolf, Stiles didn't know. Of course, Scott's room didn't exactly smell like roses to begin with. Even Stiles could pick up on the stench of eau d' Scott.

Jackson arrived first, as he always did. He worked off his dinner in his parents' home gym and showered. He barely bothered dressing afterwards, just a pair of baggy sweatpants that rode low on his hips. If Stiles wore pants that low, they'd be around his ankles within three steps. But Jackson's movements were far smoother.

Jackson settled in front of his full-length mirror, admiring himself. Stiles rolled his eyes. He was watching a vain pretty boy preen himself. Then, he was going to watch the two people that hated him most, and he probably hated most too, fuck.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Jackson backed away from the mirror, smirking like the cocky shit he was, and took a tube out from behind his dresser and set it beside the bed. Stiles waited for Jackson to venture off to the kitchen, before slipping into his ensuite, leaving the door cracked. He spotted a half full laundry basket he could hide in if Jackson decided to change before Derek's arrival and settled in for the show.

Jackson returned with an apple, rolling it between his palms, as he moved for his massive window. He was about to bite into the fruit, when a smile crept over his lips, making it clear that Derek arrived. He invited him in with a upwards nod of his head and shut the curtains. Good thing Stiles wasn't into binoculars.

Stiles looked at the door, waiting to hear Derek enter, but he moved with absolute silence. Derek's figure filled the doorway, nothing but the twinkle in his eyes to display his excitement. Jackson put his apple down and moved, not straight for Derek, but rather circling him as if trying to find the right place to pounce from. Derek cut his actions short, taking the direct path to his beta.

Jackson jumped him, his knees taking hold on Derek's hips so that he could make himself taller than his alpha. Derek's hands instinctively went to the small of Jackson's back. He was about to pull him off, when Jackson's fingers wound into Derek's hair, twisting his head upwards and to the side. He drew him into a rough kiss, the sudden movement drawing Derek off balance. Derek turned slightly, backing into the closet door for support.

Jackson smiled, urging Derek's arms from his jacket. Derek complied, making Jackson grin. Jackson's hands settled in on top of his closet door, using his entire body to keep Derek pinned. The alpha let out a low growl, but Jackson ignored the threat. He knew he finally managed to get the upper hand. The only thing keeping Derek standing was the closet door. His feet were planted on the floor, but they could do nothing more than keep his body pressed to the wall.

Derek kept his cool. There was no reason to complain. He didn't need to be on top to dominate the kiss. Stiles was sure he could have thrown Jackson across the room if he wanted.

Derek's hands smoothed over Jackson's back, dipping in every dimple created by muscle, before following his arms to his hands. Jackson smirked as Derek's fingers found their way between his palms and the gray panel hiding his undoubtedly over-sized closet. Jackson's hands slackened slightly, making Derek smile into the kiss.

Stiles watched Derek's muscles tighten, preparing to regain control, but Jackson moved first, moved faster. His hands disappeared over the top of the door for less than a second, before quickly clasping Derek's wrists in a pair of handcuffs. Jackson jumped down before Derek had the chance, backing away in time to see Derek's eyes flare bright red.

Derek tugged on his restraints, his muscles rippling as the demon inside added to his strength, but the chains remained strong. Every breath leaving his lips was low, deep and verging on a growl. Stiles caught sight of Derek's fangs and his heart honestly skipped a beat. Jackson was beaming, absolutely thrilled with the situation, but Derek looked ready to murder him.

"Would now be a bad time to tell you I refitted my closet with a reinforced steel frame?" Jackson teased, his tongue resting against his teeth.

"I am going to kill you."

"You tried that already." Jackson advanced on Derek, who was still seething. "Didn't really work."

Derek pulled harder, the metal creaking at his unnatural strength. His arms were on either side of his head, his hands unable to each one another or touch anything but the knobless door behind him.

"Relax. You'll love this."

Jackson pulled Derek's jacket free, swinging it over his shoulders and sliding his arms into the sleeves in one smooth motion. It was too big on Jackson, his fingers barely peaked out, but he didn't care. He slipped his hands under Derek's shirt, stepping in close. Derek could have kicked his ass, but that wouldn't have got him anywhere. Jackson pushed Derek's wife beater up, slowly exposing every ounce of flesh above his jeans. He ripped the shirt in two, not wanting to deal with it, and tossed it aside.

Jackson moved closer, rolling his body against Derek's. Their lips met again, Derek's head settled above Jackson's taking whatever control he could. Jackson's hand slid into Derek's hair, pulling himself up that fraction of an inch that Derek had over him. Jackson was a little more careful. Derek had yet to put his fangs away and his eyes were still red when the kiss started. Their eyes were both shut for the moment, but Derek wasn't displaying the same level of self control he usually did.

Jackson slipped free of the kiss, taking his lips across Derek's jaw and nipping the heated flesh. His hands moved up Derek's arms, enjoying every rock hard muscle his fingers found. His mouth settled in at the dip between Derek's neck and shoulder, making sure to leave his mark. Jackson's fingers slipped over Derek's wrists, working their way into the tight balls Derek's hands had become.

Derek relaxed slightly, uncurling his fists. Jackson weaved their fingers and Derek quickly clamped down. Jackson chuckled, returning his lips to Derek's, unaffected by his alpha's new found level of power. Their lips snarled, their animals coming out as the kiss deepened. Jackson withdrew, maintaining his teasing demeanor. Derek stretched forward, trying to continue things as his red eyes flashed again, but Jackson remained out of reach. Derek tightened his grip on Jackson's hands, making them contort.

"You know I don't need my hands to get you off," Jackson whispered, keeping his lips _just_ out of Derek's reach.

"I'm not the horny teenager here."

"Please. I have displayed excellent technique, restraint and stamina."

They shared a laugh, Jackson still teasing Derek with the temptation of his lips.

"Care to make a wager?" Jackson asked, his tongue quickly swiping over Derek's lips before Derek could catch it. "Because I bet I could."

"You're not _that_ good."

"We both know that's a lie."

Jackson's body rolled. His hips arched forward, his back curving and offering Derek some friction. A breath left Derek's lips, before Jackson raised himself, working his erection against Derek's and resuming the kiss. He was humping Derek, not letting their still contained cocks separate, but Jackson's body moved as if they were legitimately fucking. Jackson gave a particularly hard thrust, opening up the kiss so that fight could truly begin.

Derek let out a moan, his lips parting further. Stiles watched Jackson's tongue tease Derek's, dodging the sharp fangs and drawing Derek's tongue into his mouth. Jackson sucked on Derek's tongue, his cheeks hollowing and holding it hostage momentarily, before releasing it. He took his lips from Derek's again, nibbling his way to Derek's ear.

"What do I get if I make you come your pants?" Jackson asked.

"This isn't enough."

"This is phase one." His tongue laved Derek's ear, before his teeth settled around the lobe, biting and sucking. "Phase two will have you begging."

Derek chuckled, his head rubbing against Jackson's. Stiles caught a quick flash of red. He still hadn't regained control of his demon, giving him two things to contain if he wanted to beat Jackson at his game.

Jackson dragged his teeth down Derek's throat, almost hard enough to break the skin, before licking his way back to Derek's ear.

"So what do I get?" Jackson asked again.

"The threesome you've been asking for."

Jackson was smiling again. That was exactly the answer he wanted.

"And when you fail?" Derek questioned.

"I unshackle you and your revenge starts tonight."

"Somehow, I don't feel like that'd be punishment."

"And a threesome is punishment for you?"

Derek grinned, his eyes red with demon and dark with lust. The stakes were exactly what he wanted too. Someone was going to lose, but everyone was going to leave satisfied.

Jackson's mouth slipped just behind Derek's ear, his teeth making contact with the tendons there. Derek's body jerked, a low moan rushing from his lips.

"Shit," he gasped.

"Yeah, I know your weak spot."

Derek tossed his body, trying to get Jackson away from the nerve cluster, but Jackson had the upper hand. Jackson continued driving his hips forward, hitting too many key pressure points for Derek to handle. His breathing grew ragged, able to do nothing. Derek's hands slackened momentarily as a shudder spilled over his body.

Jackson slipped free, his hands flattening next to Derek's. His thumbs ran along the outsides of Derek's hands, teasing him further. Derek tried to retake his hold, but Jackson remained _just_ out of reach. Jackson continued each of his movements, until Derek was barely breathing. His mouth was open, jaw tense, every muscle struggling to keep control, but he was going to lose.

"You win," Derek breathed.

Jackson stopped instantaneously, his mouth open, his hot breath rolling over Derek's damp skin. Derek's entire body was heaving, air finally reaching his lungs. Jackson repositioned himself, resting his forehead to Derek's, and waiting for his alpha's eyes to focus on his.

"Say I'm that good or I'll prove it."

"You're that good." The compliment came out as a growl.

Derek didn't take losing very well, but Jackson didn't rub it in... _much_. He simply smiled, smug and superior. He knew full well that if his restraints were any weaker, Derek would have broke free and fucked the shit out of him. It would have been hot and there was no way he wouldn't have enjoyed it, but he was savoring the moment.

Jackson threw his hips forward a final time, receiving a low moan and seeing just how close Derek was to coming.

"I'm going to be nice and give you a choice," Jackson began, still rubbing himself against Derek and keeping his alpha on the edge. "Either you let me make you come over and over..." his lips grazed over Derek's "... and over again, until I'm bored. Or I keep you like this..." Jackson breathed a small laugh, his smile growing "... on the edge, begging, _pleading_ to come."

"I hate you," Derek breathed.

"That's what makes this fun."

Jackson gave Derek a final taste of friction, before stepping back. He picked up his apple, his teeth sinking into the crisp fruit with a satisfying crunch. Jackson pulled out his desk chair and slouched into it, propping his feet up and admiring his handiwork. Derek was still worked up, his body arching with each breath and savoring the newly discovered cool air.

"So what's it going to be?"

"Surprise me."

Jackson's head lulled back, loving the control. He got up, strolling back to Derek. Jackson took another bite from his apple, before offering it to Derek. Derek complied opened his mouth and Jackson stuck the fruit between his teeth. Jackson set to work on Derek's jeans, unzipping his fly, and pulled the heavy denim from Derek's body along with his shoes and socks, leaving him completely naked.

Jackson stepped back, drinking in the sight. Stiles had always assumed Derek tanned, but there was no milky flesh and no shortage of muscle. Jackson put his hand to the apple and Derek bit down. It was juicy and a small dribble rolled to his chin. Jackson took care of it with his tongue, before laving at Derek's neck and replacing the bite marks that had already healed.

"Last chance to tell me what you want," Jackson murmured, his mouth trailing to Derek's ear.

"Tonight's your game. Just wait until tomorrow."

"Oh. One more thing I lied about..." Jackson's body arched forward, bringing their pelvises together roughly. "My parents aren't gone for the weekend." He worked his erection against Derek's, receiving a low moan. "They're gone for a week."

Derek was about to respond, when Jackson's teeth grazed over his sweet spot.

"That means I get to take my time, tough guy." He kissed the nerve bundle, his smirk never leaving his lips. "So you're gonna have to break free, because we both know I won't get bored."

Jackson sunk his teeth into the cluster of nerves, bringing Derek over the edge with a load groan. He stepped back again, scooping some of the come on his chest with his thumb and sucking it clean.

"This is going to be a fun week."


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles stretched his legs. This was certainly not one of his more brilliant ideas. Dawn was breaking and Jackson was sucking Derek off... again. Stiles had had to use one of his 'don't ask me why, but I'm sleeping at your house if anyone asks'. Scott went along with it, but his father wasn't happy about the last minute news of a 'sleep over'.

Derek came with a whimper this time. If it wasn't for the handcuffs and the werewolf, he'd be on the floor. Jackson wasn't giving him a chance to recover between orgasms, but that seemed to be part of the fun. They were still sharing the odd chuckle, even if Derek was going out of his mind from the lack of control.

Jackson stood, wiping his lips with his thumb, before sucking it clean.

"I'm going for a shower," Jackson announced, stripping off Derek's leather coat and pressing his lips to Derek's. "Back in five."

"I hate you," Derek growled.

"Just giving you a chance to catch your breath."

He rubbing himself against Derek a final time, before backing off. For whatever reason, Jackson hadn't come yet. He was waiting for something. Jackson turned to the bathroom and Stiles launched himself into the laundry basket, hiding underneath a sweater. The door opened and Stiles went still. Music filled the room, making it barely possible for Stiles to hear the shower turn on. He let out a silent breath.

He was safe.

The sweater lifted off his head.

Or not.

Jackson leant against the wall, peering down at him with a smile.

"If you wanted one of my jock straps, all you had to do was ask," he said softly.

Stiles choked on his tongue. Jackson took hold of his arm, hoisting Stiles out of the tall basket. He prepared to get his ass beat, but Jackson let go of him, moving for the mirror.

"You're lucky I know how to distract Derek," Jackson remarked, fixing his hair. "Your scent sticks out."

"It does?" Stiles sniffed his underarm. He smelt like non-scented deodorant. "Wait. You knew, I knew?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"More fun to watch you squirm." Jackson repositioned his pants. He was obviously hard. "And you're not exactly subtle, Stilinski." He shot a smirk over at Stiles. "Kinda surprised you kept watching, but who am I to complain? I like an audience."

"You do?"

"No point being good at something if no one's sees it." Jackson began towards Stiles. "And I must be good if you broke into my house. Or is it Derek?"

Stiles lost the ability to speak again. He still didn't know why he kept watching. He wasn't gay; he was more turned on by the power play. This wasn't the first night Jackson was in control, but tonight was the first time he _took_ control.

"Well?"

Jackson was close now. Closer than Stiles was ready for. He backed up, running into the wall. Jackson followed him, his palms settling on either side of Stiles' body and his lips settling into a permanent smirk.

"Who have you been watching, Stilinski?"

"Both," he admitted.

Jackson's smile grew. He looked down between them and Stiles covered his crotch. He was hard and it showed. Stiles ducked out of Jackson's arms, putting a couple feet between them.

"Being attracted to me doesn't make you gay," Jackson assured. "It makes you smart."

"Are you?"

"No. To use your words, I'm flexible."

Stiles looked back at Jackson. He was still 100% on the prowl. His eyes were dark, his supernatural demon locked away, but not his sexual one. His eyes were locked on Stiles's, not letting him look away. He advanced again, moving slowly like a dog hunting. That made Stiles a rabbit or possibly a squirrel.

Part of his brain told him to run, but he couldn't move. Jackson was faster, stronger. The only advantage Stiles had was an extra half inch in height and that wasn't enough. It took Stiles a moment, but he realized he actually _wanted_ to stay. He wanted to know what would happen if he did.

Time was up.

There was less than an inch between them now.

His body moved before his brain even registered it. His hand reached for the back of Jackson's head and closed the gap between them completely, before his arms settled around Jackson's neck. Jackson went with the momentum, his lips going for Stiles's.

The kiss was hard and rough. Stiles may have made the first move, but Jackson took over. His hand was at the base of Stiles's skull, digging into the cluster of nerves there. It was almost painful, but it felt so good. He felt dizzy, like someone had taken over his body. It was true.

He was consumed by lust.

Stiles drove Jackson backwards, pressing him up against the shower door. Jackson chuckled, spinning and pinning Stiles in place with a hand over each wrist. He pulled back and Stiles strained forward to keep their lips together, but Jackson refused him.

The noise that left Stiles's lips after that was so much more desperate than his question. Calling it a whimper would be far too dignified. His head swum, trying to figure out how he had even gotten into this predicament. Two weeks ago, hell, two minutes ago, Stiles could have argued that he would never have wanted this, but it was suddenly becoming the most important thing ever.

"_Please_..."

The word left his lips before he could stop it. He was past the point of desperation, past the point of need. Nothing else seemed important. Lydia Martin could walk in naked and Stiles would still be focused on Jackson.

Stiles finally figured it out. Guys thought with one of three things: their head, their heart or their cock.

It was pretty obvious which organ was doing the thinking.

Every drop of blood was flowing to it.

"Let me get one thing straight. This is a one time thing. You understand?"

Stiles nodded. Of course, he would have agreed to chew off his own leg if it meant Jackson would touch him. Jackson moved both of Stiles wrists to one hand, while his other slipped into his pants. He gasped, feeling Jackson's fingers wrap around his cock. All the air rushed from his lungs and Jackson let out a small noise of approval.

His grip slackened and Stiles moved to kiss him again, but Jackson refused his advance, pushing him back against the glass. Jackson stepped aside, switching off the shower and silencing his iPod. He moved for the door, pausing at it to summon Stiles forth with a single finger. Stiles followed without a moment's hesitation. Jackson smiled, keeping his eyes locked with Stiles as if he was still trying to keep Stiles from running.

But Stiles wasn't going anywhere. Jackson's hand raised, snaking around to the back of Stiles's head, before letting his fingers splay through his buzzed hair. His arm settled on his shoulders, his fingers still moving on top of his head.

He pushed open the door and fear suddenly set into Stiles's stomach once more. Derek spotted him instantly and he wasn't thrilled. But Jackson merely smiled. He released Stiles, leaving him to fend for himself, as he moved for Derek.

"Him? Really?"

"Yep." Jackson ran his tongue over Derek's chest and all the way to his lips. "You know how much I love corrupting people." He covered Derek's mouth with his own, swallowing the chuckle that left his lips.

"And how long have you been corrupting him?"

"Since the locker room." Jackson's lips moved over Derek's body, almost as if he was apologizing.

"I am going to kill you. Slowly."

"And in so many deliciously cruel ways." Jackson's lips settled over Derek's ear. "And if you get free tonight, you have all week to do it and no one would even notice my absence."

"You expecting him to watch everything I do to you?" His eyes settled on Stiles, making his heart race.

"No. I've had my fun. He goes after tonight."

Stiles was nothing to them and he didn't care. He just wanted tonight. He wanted a chance to be their chew toy.

"Good. Then unchain me and let's get started."

"That's still up to you."

Derek thrashed, his demon revealing itself again as he tried to get free. He hadn't tried for a while, but he was still given the same result. The metal creaked against itself, but didn't break. A frustrated snarl left his lips, making Jackson smile. He took a couple steps backwards, before turning to Stiles.

Jackson dragged Stiles against him, slamming his hips against Stiles's and his lips crushing against Stiles's. Stiles moaned, his arms winding around Jackson's neck. He tried to keep up with Jackson's hunger and expertise, but Stiles didn't stand a chance. He nearly got into the rhythm, when he felt Jackson's tongue slip into his mouth.

Stiles went with it, trying to follow Jackson's tongue, but it was fast and teasing. Before he caught it, Jackson had lured Stiles's tongue into his mouth. He sucked on it and Stiles's hips jerked, his knees going weak. Jackson smiled, grazing his teeth over the soft flesh, before releasing it. Stiles tried to return the favour, but Jackson had other ideas.

Jackson knotted a foot around one of Stiles's ankles and tripped him. Gravity took over, his arms flying out to brace his falling body, but it didn't separate the two of them. Stiles toppled onto the bed behind him, not being given the chance to bounce before Jackson's weight pinned him in place. Jackson's hands settled above Stiles's shoulders, dipping into the bed.

He ground his erection against Stiles's, swallowing every moan, whimper and every other noise as it left his lips. Jackson's hands slid underneath Stiles's shirt, pushing the fabric up. Their lips parted as Jackson yanked every upper layer he was wearing over his head, throwing it aside.

Stiles made a move for Jackson's sweatpants, but Jackson slapped away his eager hands. Jackson opened Stiles's fly roughly and Stiles felt his entire body arch into Jackson's hands. Jackson sat back, his weight nearly completely off Stiles and on his heels.

"Why'd you stop?" The question came out far more desperate than he intended.

"Giving you a final chance to run away."

"Why would I?"

"Because after tonight, you're probably not going to be able to sit for a week."

Stiles breath hitched at the threat. Jackson repositioned himself, rubbing himself against Stiles's erection.

"And I'm sure there's far more vanilla ways for a boy to lose his virginity."

"Don't care. I want this."

"When I pass you in the halls, I'm not going to give you a second look, because this doesn't mean a thing."

"I know."

"Repeat it." Jackson's hand settled on Stiles's chest.

"This doesn't mean a thing."

Jackson paused for a moment, his eyes darting around Stiles's body.

"He's telling the truth," Derek said as if he read Jackson's mind.

"Good." He looked over at the shackled alpha. "Anything else I need to cover?"

"Nope. But you could give me a chance of getting free."

Jackson swung off of Stiles in a smooth motion, moving for Derek. Stiles propped himself up on his elbows. Jackson slid the door to the side and stepped behind Derek, his hand skimming over the alpha's hip, before disappearing from sight. Derek looked over his shoulder, watching Jackson. The chains slackened slightly. Derek tried to bring his hands together and he almost succeeded, but Jackson pulled back on the chain, letting nothing more than his middle fingers touch the metal.

"Can't make this too easy for you," Jackson teased, brushing past Derek has he emerged.

"It's not a threesome if I'm not involved."

"Then you better come up with a better plan. Otherwise, I'm going to get off with him. And you're going to have to watch it."

Derek snarled, his fangs out again. Jackson smiled, feeding off Derek's anger. He pressed his lips to Derek's once more. Stiles sat up the rest of the way, watching their kiss intensify. Jackson's hand slid into Derek's hair, his knuckles tightening as his fingers knotted in the dark mane. Jackson's free hand lifted, beckoning Stiles forth.

Stiles complied, stepping into Jackson's grip. Jackson pushed him down to his knees, never looking at him. His knuckles grazed over Stiles's throat as his thumb swiped over Stiles's bottom lip, before guiding him even closer. Jackson broke the kiss, leaving his head against Derek's as he looked down at their new participant.

"Suck me off," Jackson directed.

Stiles didn't need to be asked twice. His fingers looped around the waistband of Jackson's pants and tugged them down just low enough to free Jackson's cock. Derek jerked his arms, still trying to break free.

It seemed Jackson wasn't the only one that didn't like to share.

Jackson twisted his body, leaning back against Derek and making sure the alpha had a good view. His hand slipped from Stiles's face, falling to Derek's cock, which was beside him now. Jackson had angled himself so he had plenty of room to jerk him off and Derek wouldn't have to choose between watching Jackson's expert hands or Stiles pathetic attempts at a blowjob.

"And be sure to cover your teeth," Jackson reminded.

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat and leant forward towards the hard member. Stiles wished he could take credit for that, but he was sure it was Derek. Stiles licked the head, tasting the pearl of precum. It was salty. No surprise there. His tongue moved on its own, laving at the head and playing with the slit.

Nails raked over his skull, moving through his buzzed hair with ease. The sensation was motivating, both approving and encouraging. Stiles's lips parted taking Jackson into his mouth. A breath left Jackson's mouth and Stiles looked up to see them both watching him. Stiles focused on the task at hand. He acted like those times he had chocolate batter stuck to his fingers as a child and wanted to suck the sweetness off.

There was a childhood memory he'd never be able to look at the same way again.

His head moved forward, taking Jackson in as deep as he could go, but there were still a good couple inches. Wanting to impress them, Stiles let the member slide most of the way from his mouth and took a deep breath. Stiles moved forward again, feeling the warm cock slip into his throat. Jackson lets out a small moan. The first one Stiles had got from him.

Stiles tried to keep him there, but his throat spasmed. He gagged and withdrew completely, coughing a little. Stiles looked up again, half-expecting to get thrown out, but that didn't seem to be the plan.

"Few can deep throat on the first time," Jackson assured. "I did, but you shouldn't compare yourself to me."

His tone wasn't friendly, but it wasn't quite condescending either. He was the same cocky shit he always was, but Stiles had the slight advantage of being someone that could get him off.

Stiles started up again, sucking on the head and taking what he could into his mouth. He began bobbing, keeping the suction as strong has he could. Jackson moaned again, his fingers tightening against his skull as they tried to find something to hold onto, but there was nothing. Stiles looked up in time to see Derek jerk his body, drawing Jackson's mouth to his.

The beta complied, opening his mouth and giving Derek full access to fuck him with his tongue. A groan left Stiles at the sight and Jackson's hips flicked at the vibration, pushing his cock against the back of Stiles's throat. Stiles almost gagged gain, tensing up all over, but he restrained himself.

Stiles looked up again, trying to time his movements with Derek's tongue. The metal creaked again, but remained attached. It kept Stiles focused. For all he knew, he'd get thrown out the moment Derek was free. Stiles took Jackson deeper again, letting Jackson's head slip into his throat. Sweat broke out on Jackson's body, his breathing quickening and a small tremble shaking his lithe frame.

Stiles hand dropped to his groin, rubbing himself, when Derek kicked him. Stiles fell back on his ass, losing Jackson from his mouth and breaking werewolves' kiss.

"You'll get your turn," Derek growled.

Jackson chuckled, knowing what Stiles had done.

"No one leaves unsatisfied," Jackson assured. "Rule number one."

Stiles wanted to ask how many rules there were, but there were better things for his mouth to do. He returned to his knees, trying hard not to fully crawl back to Jackson.

"You're not actually going to let him suck you off, are you?" Derek asked possessively, dragging his teeth over Jackson's ear.

"Gotta take what I can get in times like these."

Derek bit down on Jackson's neck and the younger wolf moaned, his hand tightening on Derek's member. Stiles moved to take advantage the opening, but Jackson caught his jaw, forcing Stiles to his feet.

"We're going to give Derek one last chance to get free..."

Jackson pushed Stiles back against Derek, holding on to him until Derek's teeth found his neck. Stiles let out a whimper, trying to feel for his fangs, but they were safely tucked away. Jackson's mouth settled on the other side of his throat. They were both leaving marks, marks he wouldn't be able to explain.

Jackson removed his mouth, shifting his head to Derek's. Their lips met again and he could feel their bodies both striving for one another, but Stiles was in the middle, feeling both of them work themselves against his pants. Jackson's hands smoothed down Stiles's arms, before settling around his wrists. He lifted Stiles's arms, passing off his grip to Derek.

His hands dropped to Stiles's pants, opening them roughly, before coaxing them down his legs. Stiles moved to help, but Derek's grip remained strong, letting him do nothing but lift a leg in. Jackson shed every last inch of material from his body.

Jackson stepped back and Stiles instantly missed the weight on his body. He felt a smirk form of Derek's lips and knew he had missed some silent conversation between them. Derek's teeth grazed over his jugular, his eyes obviously locked with Jackson's. Jackson fixed his pants, covering himself up. He was enjoying the power of still being clothed and Stiles was regretting not tearing them completely off when he had the chance.

Jackson's teeth returned to Stiles body, leaving more marks as he sank to his knees. Stiles watched him, watched his mouth. His lips skimmed over his hips, before following the length of his cock. His body flicked, trying to get his dick into Jackson's mouth, but it backfired. Jackson's hands slid to Stiles's hips, fixing him in place against Derek. His tongue came out next, teasing Stiles until a desperate cry left his lips.

Derek bit down on the curve between Stiles's neck and shoulder, making sure he wasn't forgotten, but Stiles couldn't ignore the hard cock pressed against his ass. Jackson finally gave in, taking Stiles into his mouth. Stiles moaned, watching in fascination as Jackson went to work.

There were no words to describe this. Jackson sucked cock like he'd done it his whole life. His movements were fast, slow, rough and gentle all at once. His tongue nearly vibrated on the underside of his dick and it made his body arch for more and less at the same time. It was like being engulfed in something _too_ good. Stiles's body almost rejected the idea, not because he wanted it to stop, but because he was afraid it would end too soon.

Stiles's head fell back and Derek quickly covered his mouth with his own, his tongue just as demanding as Jackson's. Stiles didn't even bother trying to keep up; he surrendered to Derek completely. Derek thrust forward, pushing Stiles deeper into Jackson's mouth. Jackson wasn't even fazed. He welcomed the action, adjusting his rhythm without skipping a beat.

Stiles could feel the heat build in his body. He was so close. He was holding on as best he could, but not even the Pope would last with these two.

That image got him a few more seconds.

He was about to give in, when Jackson withdrew. Stiles felt his body shiver at the loss, looking down to see Jackson roll his weight back to his feet. Jackson stood, stepping in close, but not touching Stiles's erection. He was that close and Jackson knew it.

Jackson pulled Stiles free, drawing him into a kiss, and spun them. Stiles was frantic as he tried to dispose of Jackson's pants, but the werewolf shoved him back with a hard hand to his chest. Jackson slithered out of the baggy sweats without using a single hand, stepping free of them.

"On all fours," Jackson commanded, practically strutting after him.

"I wanna see."

Jackson smirked at the request. His knee slid across the bed, eliminating any possibility of Stiles closing his legs, and his fingers skimmed up to the backs of his knees, making Stiles bend his legs and settle his feet at the edge of the bed. Jackson crawled over him, making Stiles shift his weight to his shoulders, before picking up the bottle of lube.

Stiles's breath hitched at the noise of the cap clicking open. Jackson caught the slight gasp, his eyes snapping to Stiles's and a smile taking hold of his lips once more. Without a word of warning, Stiles felt a slick finger at his opening and his body almost shut down as Jackson pushed the digit inside. He forgot to breathe and his body tensed, his fingers winding in the sheets.

Jackson worked the single digit until it stopped stinging, until Stiles could feel his ass welcome the intrusion. A moan escaped his lips and Jackson was quick to swallow it, covering Stiles's mouth with his own. A second finger slipped past the tight ring of muscles. Stiles whimpered, keeping his mind on the kiss as Jackson continued to stretch him. His hips bucked, trying to bring Jackson deeper, but Jackson remained the slightest bit away from his prostate.

"You'll come when I'm inside you, then I'm going to fuck you until you come again," Jackson breathed, his lips barely lifting off of Stiles's.

Stiles was about to respond, but Jackson's fingers scissored inside him. Stiles writhed as Jackson's actions became rougher; he was getting impatient, getting harder. Stiles's head lulled back, but Jackson didn't let their lips part. He was determined to devour every noise Stiles made. Jackson withdrew, leaving Stiles's ass open and wanton and his mouth to swallow a few fresh gulps of air.

Jackson rested his forehead against Stiles, looking back at Derek. Stiles followed his gaze, watching Derek's bright red eyes as he struggled. But he had it wrong. Derek never lost control over his wolf. He couldn't after all this time. He grew up as a werewolf; he'd always been a werewolf.

He was giving into his animal, because his human side could never get free.

Jackson slid inside and Stiles came right there. The penetration was frictionless and Jackson's cock settled against his prostate. He was so deliciously full and already balancing on the edge of his orgasm that there was no way he wasn't going to. He'd wanted to last at least a few thrusts, but his chest was already covered in cum. Jackson gave Stiles a moment to adjust for his size, before he began thrusting.

He was gentle at first, but that didn't last long and Stiles was grateful. He didn't want gentle. Jackson worked up to a fast pace, but Stiles could feel him holding back. He tried to form a coherent sentence, but all that came out were moans dripping with ecstasy.

Jackson rearranged his hold on Stiles, sliding Stiles legs over his shoulders. His hands settled in on either side of Stiles, keeping his legs in place. Jackson leant forward, practically bending Stiles in half as he continued working his cock into Stiles.

Stiles groaned, the noise drawing Jackson's lips back to his. Stiles's hands clambered in search of something to hold to. His fingers settled around Jackson's forearms as Jackson's cock drove deeper into him.

A deafening snap broke across the room and Stiles barely had the chance to see Derek free himself from the second shackle, before he was at Jackson's back, his hands settling in on Jackson's hips.

"Better bite down on something," Derek growled, the red dissipating from his eyes.

Jackson didn't question it. He sunk his teeth into Stiles shoulder harder than either werewolf had before as Derek pushed inside Jackson, bare and raw. The force drove Jackson even deeper, flattening the younger werewolf out against Stiles. His legs fell from Jackson's shoulders as Derek began slamming into Jackson. Jackson's hands fisted in the sheets on either side of Stiles's head and teeth dislodged from Stiles's flesh to let the choked moans escape his throat.

Jackson managed to keep moving, using Derek's momentum to push himself deeper and deeper into Stiles. Derek's head rested against the base of Jackson's skull, pounding him harder and harder. Stiles could feel the smile and twist of pleasure on Jackson's face, pressing into his shoulder. Stiles fixed his grip on Jackson, clinging to him for dear life. Their moans, grunts and cries all mixed together.

None of them lasted long. It wasn't surprising. Derek and Jackson had been holding to their orgasms for too long not to give in and Stiles was, well, Stiles. Jackson gave in first, but Derek was right there to join him and their cries dragged Stiles over the edge with them.

Derek flopped down onto the bed, one of his knees bending as he settled in to catch his breath. One of the metal cuffs still hung from his wrist. Jackson needed a moment, before he rolled off of Stiles towards Derek. He was grinning, floating on the sexual high.

"Shower before you talk to anyone," Jackson said, tucking a pillow under his head. "Preferably twice. No one needs to know I fucked a Stilinski."

"Like I want anyone knowing," Stiles reacted.

"Good. Keep it that way," Derek grumbled, rolling to his feet and heading for the bathroom.

"Can I ask why?"

"Why what?" Jackson's eyes were shut, his body relaxing completely.

"Why this? You two don't like each other."

"You don't have to like someone to fuck them. Honestly, it's hotter if you don't."


End file.
